The Odd Couple
by HappySlasher
Summary: Small collection of short one-shot prompts. Fandango/Ambrose.
1. Chapter 1

Im much slower at writing these than theytalktome but this was fun! :)

* * *

1. Plead.

When he heard the loud lock clicking from behind, he knew he was cornered.

This scene had repeated itself too many times with other superstars for Fandango not to be panic stricken. Many times he had denied the ever-praised leader of the Shield something simple, a date, but there were no repercussions. Before, Ambrose was far too infatuated with him to cause any bodily harm, but Fandango supposed that the superstar had become fed up. You can only restrain a pack of hounds for so long.

Ambrose's face isn't trying to force a normal smile like with his usual proposals. His features screamed frustration and purposefully he wrapped tape around his fists. Fully understanding the situation as Dean closed in on him, Fandango gulped loudly. He eased down the locker, cowering under the pressure, and shakily looked up to the man.

"Can I reconsider?"

:::

2. Found.

"Honey, where is my belt?" Dean rolled his eyes at the wardrobe malfunction that could've easily been avoided had his boyfriend not had an uncharacteristic need to clean his mess. Most guys fussed over their love interest moving in to their bachelor pads and Ambrose now understood why. "Check in the closet." Fandango's reply echoed down the hall. Again, the blue eyes rolled before Dean strutted his way over to the closet. He slid the door back slowly and flipped through the gaudy outfits his dancer merged in with his normal wear.

"I don't see it," he yelled.

"All the way on the right," the reply echoed once more.

Dean nodded and pushed the outfits out of his way, nearly paling at what he saw; gawking at the rainbow bright colors. "I bought you a new one. It'll remind you of me. "

Ambrose sighed remorsefully. "I found it."

:::

3. Puppy Love.

Dean couldn't believe the audacity of some of the other superstars. So far, most of the tag team division had come over and tried to strike up a conversation. Even the divas' threw passing glances his way for once. When he had suddenly became approachable, he wasn't sure, but he had an idea.

Complaining in the catering line stood the goofily handsome crush of one Dean Ambrose: Fandango. Such perfection. Dean pushed around the food on his plate melancholily. He was such a can't even hear Roman and Seth's jesting as they finally made their way to his side. All he can focus on is how love struck he is over the dancing superstar. Sadly, explaining that was hard.

When Fandango struts by his table, Ambrose can't help but stare, his sinister features downplaying the embarrassment his tinted cheeks expressed. The tan superstar turned with the feeling of being stared through before locking eyes with Ambrose. "Did you say something?" Dean just sneers awkwardly, fumbling in his mind over what to say. After a while, he just gives up with a thumping heart and barks that he didn't open his mouth. Fandango stared curiously for a moment, but shrugged and kept strolling.

Once again Dean looked up and only caught a glimpse of the superstar. He sighed lovingly and the sneer melted off his face into an embarrassed smile. Like with the unrequited first love of his high school years, Dean was such a sap.

:::

4. Fantasy

Tight trim waist. Sun-kissed skin. Smooth chestnut locks. Glowing personality.

Fandango was everything Dean had been dreaming of. He was what Ambrose wasn't, in a sense that he embodied light among his darkness. The Shield leader knew at the first meeting that he needed to have the dancer for his own; their engagement a large part of their whirlwind romance. Standing at the alter, Dean remembers how this all seemed untrue, and how he needed the other members- now his best men- to pinch some belief into him. He's skeptical but as the doors burst open and his husband-to-be is parading down the isle in tight white slacks and a button down, he knew this was no fantasy; this was his reality.

:::

5. Home

The long flight was nearly unbearable but Dean had made it. All he wanted to do was get in, rest his body, and eat. That was always the plan after a long work week. The lights in the house were strangely lit but they were forgone to instead pay attention to the lock he hurriedly went to undoing. Great. As he twisted the knob slowly, the calm he expected was trampled on and replaced with the rowdy riotous cheering of other superstars. Ambrose rolled his eyes to his own team and their spouses, who were vigorously enjoying the gaming console, and the other talent that had made themselves cozy in the kitchen. He barked loudly for an explanation but he knew it was pointless, especially when his boyfriend surfaced out of the sea of people and nervously stammered out. "My, you're home kinda early, aren't you?"

:::

6. Caring.

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Look at your eye; you're not fine."

"How would you know? Are you my eye?" Dean sneered sarcastically and pushed his boyfriend away from the medical bed's edge. Followed by his delivery of a resounding slap, Fandango turned up his nose at the cruel words and stormed out of the room.

"Thanks that really made my eye feel better!" Dean growled before cussing violently. This wasn't the first time he didn't quite understand why he was being attacked. Irately he turned to his teammates who seemed to be snickering at his misfortune. "I don't understand it. I tell him I'm fine and he has a tantrum. What's his problem?"

Roman and Seth just shook their heads and continued to laugh at Dean's confusion. Having someone actually care about him was far beyond his comprehension it seemed.

:::

7. Voice

Fandango wasn't a top tier guy. He wasn't as established as Cena, or as flawlessly demented as Orton, or as massively built as Ryback; he was a normal sized albeit handsome wrestler. He was glad to have made it to the main roster, evolving from the rather strange ruins of the NXT Redemption days, but he was still on the bottom of the proverbial food chain. He was a nobody compared to the other superstars and it always made him question exactly where his career would go. It wasn't in his hands; no, it was in the hands of everyone but him: the COO, the chairman of the board, the WWE universe, and even some of the other superstars. Jericho could've buried Fandango's legacy long before the dancer even got started. Every day was a gamble, a hope, a prayer that he'd wake up as relevant as the week before.

"Be careful out there tonight."

Fandango turned from his stretching in the guerrilla to smile in the watcher's direction. "Yeah? What's so special about tonight?"

The man shrugged and started inching away, "Maybe I persuaded the boss to give you a shot at my title if you get this 'W'. Maybe." He smirked lightly and blew a kiss to his the dancer while he strolled away.

The Maine-native couldn't keep from grinning as he bounced around one final time. While no one else listened, there was the one person who did, there was the one person who heard his voice.

Dean Ambrose. Somehow Fandango felt safe in those bandaged hands.

:::

8. Cut

"Is he still angry with you?" Rollins cackled out his question, grabbing a bottle of water as he teased the leader of their group.

Ambrose just growled in response.

Roman was the next to join the interaction, chuckling too. "Man, what did you even do to him?"

Seth twisted the cap off his water nonchalantly. "I didn't tell you?" He snickered further. "The big bad wolf over here got a little too rough when he was playing around with his sheep."

Reigns looked to Ambrose with growing confusion. "What does that mean?"

An annoyed grunt. "It had been weeks since we went at it," Dean laced up his boots carelessly and sighed. "So after the show last week, we were fooling around, I got a little too excited, and I accidentally scratched his face." Ambrose waved away the laughter he was met with and let his eyes wander towards the makeup area. Fandango, who had been sitting in the chair much longer than usual, spotted the disturbance and glared back at Dean.

Ambrose just choose to avoid further conflict and avert his eyes. He'd have to wait even longer for any action this time around.

:::

9. Impulse

Dean nearly chocked on his own gasp as he gawked at the exceedingly lengthy receipt. "You spent all this on clothes?!"

Fandango hung his head as he made his eleventh trip to the car. Handing the empty wallet to his husband, he pouted cutely. "It was on sale..."

:::

10. Weapon

If Fandango admired anything about Michael Cole- someone not usually worth paying any mind to- it was that he could say and do what he wanted. Obnoxious in flaunting the finer points of his relationship, Cole had never made a comment that produced repercussions for him; Orton wouldn't allow any violence to befall the man. Fandango first took notice to the phenomenon when Triple H assigned the Shield to the aid of Randy and he couldn't say he wasn't impressed. Cole really knew how to work a relationship.

But so did Fandango.

He too could run his mouth as openly as he wanted just as he was doing with Miz now. The Cleveland man was simply a disgrace to dance and the true dancer was certain to let him know in a rather violent way, a slap across the face. His feet fled the locker room swiftly, but they didn't have to run too far. He escaped into catering where he knew his safe haven would be, and just like that his pursuer stopped...or was stopped.

Towering by a few inches, the leader of the hounds rose to intercept whatever action Miz was contemplating. Just as soon, the other two were at the leader's side and anticipating the command. Dean looked back to Fandango, silently waiting for confirmation on the next move but the dancer takes the simpler route and "shoo"s Miz away. Mike angrily stormed off without another word and Fandango smiled in victory. He gives his secret weapon a peck on the cheek gratefully and strolls off to cause more trouble. Cole knew how to work a relationship and so did he.


	2. Chapter 2

And last part :)

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11. Storm.

It was the first time Dean had witnessed the rage of the ever-bright performer, and even he had his concerns.

Fandango had ran ramped on the entire lockerroom: breaking benches, indenting locker doors, and engaging in three fights already- which he effortlessly won. Ambrose couldn't control the fury, but quite honestly he hadn't inquired about why his husband was so out of sorts. He's faced with the question sooner than he wanted as the locker room clears out and he's left with the furious dancer. He turns to face the gorgeously glaring eyes burning a hole through him.

Fandango began to stomp over to Dean, pulling a cracked phone from his pocket. Sneering in disgust he asked one simple question, "Who is Christy?"

:::

12. Blackboard.

"No, no, no," Fandango tapped the board once more in emphasis. Rolling his eyes, he sighed for the third time that day. No matter how much he tried, Ambrose was just not catching on. Dean, who was wearing an embarrassingly form fitting leotard, folded his arms in annoyance.

"Look, baby, I'm just not a dancer."

"But you want to learn don't you?"

Ambrose disinterestedly scratched his stubble. "Not really."

"I thought you said you wanted to help me practice. Isn't that why you came?"

"Well yeah," Dean approached his boyfriend. He went to wrap his arms around his waist. "But I was hoping we could do a little 'dirty dancing', you know? We're all alone. Summer isn't around..."

"Sorry, but no." Fandango waved away the thought and pulled away from Dean. "We will not disgrace the name of dance. Now, take it from the top." The dancer directed.

Dean groaned in deprecation and yanked on the leotard adjusting himself. "I'm chafing in this stupid thing." This was definitely not for him.

:::

13. Truth.

"Why won't you wear that belt I bought you?"

A long sigh.

"Basically honey, our ideas of stylish are extremely different."

:::

14. Prowl.

Seth and Roman yawned in unison, tired from the long show, but even more tired from waiting for Dean's obsession. Ambrose was emphatic about surveying every instance he could of the elegant superstar that was Fandango. Naturally, Seth and Rome were his logically thinking tag-alongs. They were the little strands of conscience that kept him from following the man into hotel rooms, or jumping in the rental car behind him, or randomly collecting things after the dancer used and discarded them. The two men could usually talk a lot of sense in the demented mind but they found that this was not always the case.

"The shower." Dean drew the men from their drowsy dazes.

Roman knitted his brow. "The shower? What about it?"

"He's in the showers now. I just saw him go in." Ambrose was twitching slightly, frantically tapping his fingers against the wall as he thought.

"So?" Seth scratched his head before he understood. "Wait, Dean, don't!"

Dean quickly threw off his clothes and hustled towards the shower area. "He's in there and I'm going in after him!" His partners tried their best to restrain him but quite easily his nimble body slipped past them and he victoriously prowled in to the steam. "Da da da da da da..."

:::

15. Strawberries.

Fandango was definitely not the manliest superstar. Far more feminine in his lifestyle, the brawler had rather odd tendencies. And Dean loved them all.

"Do I smell strawberries?" Seth sniffed around questioningly. "Where is that coming from?"

Dean, calmly knotted his boots. "Johnny wears strawberry flavored Chapstick."

"Okay, I'll believe that, but why do I smell it on you?"

Dean and Roman shared knowing glances and the United States champion smirked mischievously. "I like the taste of strawberries, I guess."

:::

16. Believe.

"No."

Dean confusedly plopped down on the bed. "Is that all you have to say? No?"

"Yes," Fandango nodded slowly, emphasizing his words. "My answer to you is no." Calmly the man went back to putting away the laundry after straightening up a few things. He could easily tell that his husband was fidgeting over a burning thought. As cooly as before he peered at the man. "What?"

Dean shrugged carelessly before shaking his head. "I don't know. It's just..." He chuckled lightly, very little feeling behind the sound. "I expected your answer to be a little more compelling than just no. I ask are you cheating on me with the Miz and you act like I asked about the weather."

"Well did you want me to get bent out of shape trying to defend myself? I've been here before. I'm not outraged by the accusation. Miz is a handsome guy, I can be a little adventurous sometimes, right? That's usually a recipe for adultery." Fandango refolded a pair of underwear and lightly tucked it in a drawer. "But I know what I did or didn't do. And you know me well enough, what I would and wouldn't do."

"You make me worry when you give me answers like that." Ambrose sucked his teeth in defiance and crossed his arms. "I don't know how to take it."

"Such is the curse of beautiful people," The dancer sighed in disdain before snickering sadly. "Look, you can trust what you want but I'm not not going to try and force you to believe me. I didn't cheat." As lighthearted as the banter was, Dean could feel the anger radiating from his spouse. His thought was only exemplified as the dancer threw clothes in his lap. "Me actually washing your gym shorts should be proof enough."

Fandango lightly stomped out the room, slamming the door behind him. Ambrose sighed heavily and called to the man. "Where are you going?"

"Out to Summer's place." The irritable answer made Dean mentally punch himself.

"Are you coming home tonight?"

Fandango swung the recently slammed door open, revealing the duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. The dancer always had an emergency bag prepared. Holding it only further exemplified his seriousness. Wearing a plastic smile, he glared at Ambrose. "I'll be back, If you can believe that." He curled his lip up distastefully and slammed the door a final time.

:::

17. Tease.

Fandango grinned impishly towards Summer Rae's excited blue eyes. She fastened the black belt around her friend's waist and giggled in appreciation. "He's going to love this!"

"He better," Fandango smiled adjusting the skintight black shirt. "Can you believe I bought all this from the Shop?"

"Really? ?" Summer and Fandango carried on with the growing interest in shopping until the sound of footsteps and chatter called their attention. Summer hopped excitedly and prompted the dancer into place.

Moments later, the Shield members paraded into their locker room, chatting away about their victory earlier. They continued until Dean got an eyeful of Fandango's little surprise. Decked in Deans's fitted black shirt, black boots, and short tight black shorts held up by a belt, Fandango spread himself across a sofa in the room.

Ambrose froze, having the boys bump into him as they halted the formation. "Hey Dean, why'd you stop?" Auburn locks whipped around as he forced Seth and Roman out the locker room and locked the door. His eyes intently shot back to his husband.

Dean wiped the proverbial drool from his mouth. "What are you wearing?"

Fandango smiled cutely and rolled around to his stomach on the couch. "Your shirt and boots and belt. I don't do baggy pants so I found an alternative." He pouted with pseudo-innocence, "I wanted to be in the Shield too. Don't you like it?"

Ambrose's gulp was audible throughout the room as he nodded. "Yeah I do."

"Good," the dancer sat up gracefully.

"But then again..."

Fandango looked up interested in what his partner had to say. "Then again?"

"Then again," Dean smirked salaciously, "pretending to be something you're not, well, that's a down right injustice." He eased over to stand in front of the attractive male.

The performer grinned mischievously and stood to his feet. "Oh yeah? Then do you plan to punish little old me?"

"Yeah, and I've got the perfect punishment in mind."

Fandango shared dirty cheshire smiles with Dean before shoving him down to the couch and going towards the door. "Well keep it in mind." He turned to see Dean's surprised expression and chuckled lightly. "Summer is still in the room. Can't fool around while she's here. Sorry there, Deano." He apologized mockingly as he ushered Summer from her corner. She strolled confidently out the door, while the dancer accompanied her in the doorframe.

"I told you he'd love it," Summer sang gleefully. "He looked like he wanted to eat you up."

"Yeah he did. You're always right about this kind of thi-!" Before the superstar could finish, he was yanked back into the room by his belt. Summer couldn't get another word out as the door slammed in her face.

She thought of reopening it but based on the noises from inside, it was smarter not to. She giggled happily to herself. Maybe their teasing worked a little too well.

:::

18. Gloves.

"Wrist tape or gloves?" Seth angrily presented the question while Fandango argued in tow.

"Everyone's going to choose wrist tape. Gloves are out of style," the dancer commented slyly as he secured his own wrists and placed his hands on his hips.

The debate was at a slight stalemate as each man had an equal number of superstars on their side, but Fandango was too comfortable in his decision. That fueled Seth even more. Skillfully he looked around for the last superstar to ask and his eyes landed on his own teammate. Victoriously Rollins jolted to his side. "Dean! Hey Dean! Be our tie breaker."

Ambrose looked with curious eyes. "Okay?"

Seth smiled, "Do you prefer wrist tape or gloves?"

Fandango cut in to the conversation and sauntered to the side of his love. Cradling Dean's hands, he showed off the white wrist tape wrapped around the younger man's hands. Smirking he mouthed, "I win."

"Gloves are pretty cool." With that statement, embarrassment and shock played out on the older man's face while the two-tone haired youngest laughed uncontrollably.

"Guess I win," Seth cackled.

"Are you kidding me? Who's side are you on?!" Fandango sneered at his husband and slapped him across the chest.

"Oww! What the heck was that for?!" Ambrose became lightly irritated.

"You're an idiot!" Fandango huffed angrily and stormed off like usual.

:::

19. Encore.

Fandango danced. Strangely enough, Ambrose sung. Mostly in the shower.

"So I'm never gonna dance again. The way I danced with yooouuu!"

It wasn't the best crooning but it was too cute not to encourage.

" Take it from the top, Deano. I want to hear it again," the adoring spouse called, a snicker against his lips.

Way too cute.

:::

20. Road.

Stuck in traffic on a Friday evening, and the two men couldn't be more serene. Soft rock music occupied the background of the tiny rental car and together the union hummed faintly to the beat. This was nice. Calm. Quaint.

Dean drew from his cigarette that had been hanging limply out the window in his grip. He aimed the smokey access into the nights air and turned to his spouse. Eyeing his calm form, he appreciated the unusually calm demeanor. It was a side anyone rarely saw. Hawking, he took notice to the shift in position, the little notion to rub at his bear arm under the sleeveless jacket. He flicked his cigarette and turned to his passenger. "You cold?"

Fandango blinked lightly in Ambrose's direction and nodded. "Its a little chilly."

Not needing much more, Dean took the initiative to roll up his window and turn the heat up. Fandango appreciatively patted Dean's thigh, the little notion triggering the younger man's reflex. Smoothly he switched driving hands, letting the right search out his partner's left. Again they fell into an enjoying silence.

When Ambrose finally decided to speak again, it was not unwanted. He let his thumb tease the expensive wedding ring he personally picked for the dancer's soft supple hands. He brought the hand to his lips, giving it a soft peck. "I missed you this week."

Dean received a lazy chuckle, the only affirmation he needed to continue.

"I like hanging with the boys but nothing beats just being alone with you, Johnny." Another soft kiss to Fandango's hand.

The older man flashed a sideways smile before turning the radio off. He turned to exchange warm gazes with the man, leaning tiredly against the headrest. "I missed you too."

Again the two fell into silence while traffic started up. Only a few more hours and they'd be home.

As Dean parked in the driveway some hours later, he nudged his husband to rise from his sleeping place on Ambrose's shoulder. Gaining full consciousness, Fandango continued with their routine. Together they would watch the sunrise before going in to make breakfast and rest for the remainder of the day. Still intwined at the fingers both admired the view.

As always, Ambrose broke the silence. "I love you, Johnny." He placed a chaste kiss on the older man's temple and snuggled into him.

Fandango smiled spryly and hugged his husband. "And how can anyone not love you, Dean?" He quickly rubbed his nose against the younger's blushing face and made his way towards the house. "Now come and let me feed you."

Dean obediently followed in without any rebuttal. There'd be another time for that. Now, he was to appreciate the benefits of his domestic union wholeheartedly.

The two would enjoy their weekend until they had to be back on the road again.

Together.

Unbothered.

In love.


End file.
